Thursday, July 14, 2022

On the Return from Harsh Times

 


We nurture what we love

still the leaves can drop 

decline begins its withering

life seems to run away from us

dragging the cherished ones

into its wilderness


Stop! I cried! 

At my side the hands that still

intransigence 

touch me like desert thorns 


After putting used plates in the dishwasher 

lining up forks and spoons in the washing tray

combing tufts from the dog

speaking of why a screen door is needed

After watering every leaf in the garden

I ran to find the new leaves of summer

grape vines climbing the trellis

borage seeding itself

jasmine, gardenia, wisteria, begonia 


This euphorbia had dropped its leaves

not one by one

but rashly after one day on the shady porch 

it shrugged them off as if in a fever

declaring itself over the changes 

we brought it to the other shade 

now it thrives 


There is not a solution for everything

I try to accept that 

bitter biting taste

is it in penance or communion

is there a difference?

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